


Close Encounters of the Wife Kind

by acciohollymae



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: AU where Ryder doesn't have to save the universe, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciohollymae/pseuds/acciohollymae
Summary: Vetra and Ryder meet, and Ryder instantly decides they're wives. They can't stop falling into trouble because they're too busy making eyes at each other.





	Close Encounters of the Wife Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 1-year anniversary of Andromeda! We all deserved DLC, but hopefully some cute interspecies femslash will ease the pain.

****When I finally met the love of my life, all six feet of her was throwing punches and scattering teeth across the space station pavement; I was smart enough to stay out of her way, but the bastard bleeding in front of me hadn’t been so lucky.

“Everything good?” I quipped, eyeing her suspiciously. It’s none of my business, but I should probably make sure there’s not a death on my watch. The powers that be let me carry a gun, but that didn’t mean I was versed in how to use it.

“If someone threatened your little sister, what would you do?” she huffed, tension thick and shoulders quivering in rage. She didn't turn to look at me, hunched over the man’s body with her talons out. “Probably a lot worse than that,” I said as I motioned to the man struggling to catch his breath in front of us, “my brother can only take care of himself half the time, and we’re the same age.”

Returning to her full height, she shouted, “you hear that, Lucinus? She’s with me. The next time you think about going near Sid, you won’t get up again.” Lucinus flinched as he picks himself up, struggling to hold his jaw together despite his ridiculously thick Turian skin.

“Call me Vetra,” she said as she turned to face me for the first time, “and thank you for your discretion.” The weight of her anger settled at our feet, the ask to keep her secret silently offered, held up by a threat. I remember becoming aware how my eyes were tracing patterns through her freckled scales without actually seeing any of them. I met her eyes, trying to notice any messages she was conveying across the divide: Turians are hard to read, ever stony-faced, but I watched as nervousness flickered across her vision.

"So, are you on your way to the debriefing, or was this just a temporary battle ground?" Her eyes found mine and quickly averted to the space over my shoulder, "Both, actually. I believe the debrief isn't until after sundown." I hummed my agreement and confirmation, despite being the one who asked the question. Looking Eastward, the larger of the two suns was less than half way below the horizon. "Well, excuse me..." as Vetra moved to pass me, I noticed her thumbs rubbing over clenched fists. Her talons were still out, still in a defensive position.

"Oh, um, is your sibling doing ok?" She stiffened mid-stride. It might have been comical if I wasn’t so aware of my own body, a flush unevenly blooming under my official gear, the weight of gravity trapping us in this space together. Her eyes glared at the setting suns, but I watched her inhale slowly and wiped her three-fingered hand down her face, resting on her neck. "I believe she will be fine."

My communication tablet pinged from my breast pocket, breaking the moment that was sliding into awkwardness. "This is Ryder. What?" _“an officer has come into the infirmary--”_ "do you need more hands on deck? I can be there in--" _“no, nothing quite so serious yet. He claims you as a witness to his assault?”_ I looked up at Vetra, who surprisingly hadn't moved, gaze fixed on the dark cobalt blood she liberated from the man’s grizzled mouth. I asked without moving my eyes, "Did he name his assailant?" _“no, but he gave something of a description...”_ The other officer began listing adjectives and I mentally checked each one off as I looked over Vetra. _'You should scram'_ I mouthed..."Hm, I haven't seen anyone quite like that yet...I will be in to assist immediately."

“You’re risking a lot for a Turian you don’t even know,” she stated mournfully, her eyes avoiding me. She pulled up her hood to undoubtedly hide her facial markings: purple angular lines, denoting her rank and bloodline.  If she was as good at this as she seemed, she probably changed them often. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime, Ryder.”

My courage momentarily failed me until I blurted, “it’s Sara. I saved your bony ass, you deserve to know my first name.” That earned me a hearty chuckle, and she smiled “Noted, Sara” as she marched majestically into the dusk.

 

* * *

 

Several days later, the paperwork from the teeth-knocking incident had mysteriously disappeared, and in its place, a package was left securely nestled in my mailbox. Petit fours wrapped in brown parchment, made with artificial cream, filled with some sort of alien fruit jam, and glazed with pink frosting. The label stated ‘safe for human consumption,’ but I was skeptical. I’ll let Scott try them first, it’s easier if I’m taking him to the medic instead of the other way around. Being the responsible twin has its burdens. I scanned the note accompanying the package, the translation simply read _“Thanks. -V”_

I thought nothing more of the package until after my shift when I physically ran into its sender: the second time I met the love of my life, she fell into my arms. Whether she intended to bump into me quite so vigorously or not, her arms were stacked high with brown paper packages of assorted sizes and before I knew it my hands were full of her warm scales. I felt the weight of stones hit the floor near my toes, but my feet were no longer planted. Her alien body and weight levered us both forward; my ass slammed into the metal floor, but I pulled her warm body protectively close as she gasped.

“Shit, fuck, shit,” she exhaled in an angry, familiar tone.

“Vee, we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I smirked, feeling my cheeks flush again, at the rapidity of my words and our intimate position. The latter was not an issue for long; Vetra pushed against my shoulder, settling herself safely on the ground. I looked around, trying to piece together the conspiratorial machinations of the universe that _literally_ delivered Vetra into my arms.  “So, um, what are all these…?” my fingers moved toward an unassuming cube. Her hands were faster; they grabbed the package away, adding to a short stack already balanced on her long forearm and preventing me from helping her.

She was clearly Vetra, the same gorgeous alien I met several short evenings before, but something about her was stranger and more rattled. Her markings were now blue and patchy, and she avoided my gaze as she struggled to collect the parcels in front of her. The tension was thick; certainly thicker than her gorgeous thighs, oh god don’t stare at her thighs, but it was also heavier than the awkwardness that followed the brawl. “Vee, let’s get you indoors. Isn’t it bad for Turians to be out in the suns like this?” She snorted amusedly, finally unfurling the string of tension between her shoulders, and motioned for me to help pick up the packages littering the street. “We’re ectothermic, we need the heat to survive, so you’ve got that backwards. But your consideration is… touching.” She finally met my eyes, smiling gently as if she hadn’t seen a friendly face in days.

By the time the area had been cleaned, I realized I was holding half of the packages. Vetra’s gaze didn’t leave the the small bundle I had pinned against my body, as if she was calculating how much of a risk I was. “Who’s our first delivery?” I attempted to smirk again, looking nonplussed, ignoring the way my spine and tailbone groaned with every jostling motion. That was one hell of a fall, but I couldn’t complain about the outcome.

“No no, it’s fine, honestly. You’re on duty; there’s no reason for you to leave your post…”

“I was actually just relieved. Besides, a little change of pace is good; never hurt anyone.”

Vetra sighed, her forehead plates pressed forward in a scowl. She was silent, motionless as she seemed to mentally observe and analyze every possible outcome. I shifted, popping joints loud in the early morning hallway. Finally, Vetra sighed and managed a rough _fine, if you must_ before heading down the branching hallway. It sounded like her big sister instincts might’ve kicked in, and while I wasn't thrilled to be a burden on her, I couldn’t have said I would have wanted to be anywhere else.

We walked through the city guided by Vetra, who seemed to know a lot more about its streets than I did. I couldn’t complain, but I’m sure Vetra could have after all the bad jokes I’d thrown at her. By the time we reached the first destination, I still wasn’t sure if she loved me or hated me. The first person… well, the first _being_ on the list was a Hanar. I watched as Vetra removed her gloves to shake… tentacles on the deal. She was so obviously shaped like a carnivore, with pointed shark-like teeth and retractable claws, and I desperately wanted her to devour me. At least it was her communicating with the Throzar and not me, or I’d have ended up telling them exactly what’s on my mind: finding out how sharp those talons really are. _Fuck, I can’t say shit like that._ I’m finally making a goddamn life for myself on this space station and all I can think about is being rawed by the first… criminal… who looks at me with any amount of compassion.

I swallowed the emotions bubbling inside me to manage a conversation, “so… what do you do? For work?” and she replied with a wide-eyed glare, blinking purposefully at me. “You know, I’m technically an archaeologist. Or, at least I will be, once I’m actually working in the dig site instead of just guarding it.” No response. Of course, she doesn’t want me to know what she does, so I pressed her for more as she quickened her already-fast, long-legged pace “it’s something… dangerous, maybe? Mysterious, secretive… sexy?”

Vetra laughed at that, stopping in her tracks and doubling over, nearly dropping her share of the packages again “oh spirits, Ryder, you see me a week after I beat the shit out of a guy, and you call me sexy? Most would find that unsafe.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you find it unsafe?”

“I find _you_ to be more annoying than I previously suspected.”

“Well, that’s too bad Vee, I was about to get down on one knee and propose to the mystery woman in front of me, disguise and all. What are you even calling yourself today?”

“I gave you my name. The rest isn’t important, and you already know more than you should. Just know that I’m precarious, and given the chance, I’ll take the lustre off of your pristine top coat. I’m no good, Ry.”

“Oh, so I have a nickname now too?” I grinned stupidly, trying and failing to wiggle my eyebrows seductively, “you _do_ like me! I have to tell this to Scott, he’ll never believe my new wife is taller than he is.” I thought she was blushing, or at least as much as a Turians are able to blush. It could just be the face paint, but I marked it as a win for team Ryder anyway.

She tried to remain composed, walking away from me and hiding her sharp-toothed smile. I’m so busy laughing like an idiot that I failed to warn her before she walked directly into an open door, busting one of its hinges off the frame and leaving a Vetra-shaped indentation in the wood. For the second time since meeting, I’m struck by a sense of total dissociation; I’m hyper-aware of the reality of the scenes unfolding in front of me, and the sense that if I reach for it, it would shift out of focus again. The sound of boxes and other wrapped items tumbling to the floor reminds me that Vee, the subject of my affections and flirtations, has been hurt for the second time in the span of an hour. _How can this badass babe even be real?_

Vee stood dumbstruck, staring at the offending door, the spaces where her plating made their mark. She blinked her reptilian eyes slowly and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, groaning. I gingerly set my free hand against her back, feeling her tense. The Salarian who had opened the door lie prone, just over the threshold. I sighed and rolled my eyes, having learned only recently how sensitive their species was to sudden changes to their environment.

“Man, this is just not your day,” I looked over her face quickly, checking for open wounds, obvious injuries, and appreciating her features. The blue paint on her face was wearing off in places: she obviously needed to rest soon. I began to pick up the dropped items again, hoping none of her contraband had been irreparably damaged. Vee was silent as we gathered her charges and moved slowly and cautiously towards the exit. “Hey, since you’ve had such a rough morning, you should come with me back to my place and recuperate” I’m met by a tired, wide eyed stare.

“I really couldn’t...impose. I’ll be fine. And I need to finish these deliveries…”

“No, really, my place is only a few minutes from here. You could rest on my couch. I promise to keep my hands to myself even. You can meet my twin brother, who’s just as much trouble as I am,” I offer a small smile, hoping it will convey trust and safety, but knowing one glance couldn’t possibly hold all of that. And then Vee sighs, shaking her head in resignation.

“When was the last time you even slept?”

“Don’t act like you’re my mother,” she snapped, forehead plates pulling into a scowl.

“I’m not your mother Vetra, but I also put my ass and my job on the line already for you, so don’t act like I’m a complete stranger who doesn’t care about you.”

“But _why_ do you care about me? We’re not even the same species!”

“Because I don’t know anyone else on this space station who’s even given me a second glance! They all see me as a body, and if I’m not productive I’m not worth the effort. You look at me like a _person_ goddamnit.”

Vetra sighed, dropping her shoulders and releasing a tangible string of tension.

“Alright. I get it, I think,” she eyed me sadly, trying to smile encouragingly, “I would appreciate some rest.”

I nodded and led us toward the southwestern section of the base, grabbing her upper arm with my free hand.

I was worried too much talking and flirting would jinx our short journey to my home, so the walk was calm and quiet, contemplating each others’ company and ensuring the packages took no more damage. I stopped at the door, testing the knob on reflex; but when the door swung open automatically, the boxes I had pinned with my hip almost fell to the ground. Scott must be home. I gently set my armload down near the table, motioning for Vee to do the same.

“So this is home. The couch is ri---” as I went to show it off, in its beige three-cushioned glory, a pained groan sounded from the floor.

“Sara......oh my god, those cakes...were...amazing” I looked down, my eyes painfully large. The box Vee had left me laid open on the coffee table, note still taped to the top. Pastry wrappings were hastily discarded, strewn in a path leading straight to Scott’s now empty hand. He squirmed on the floor, unable to properly writhe in his carbohydrate induced misery.

“Scott...how...why? Scott! You ate my first gift from my wife!”  
“Wife?!” Scott’s glazed eyes focused on me and then passed me, staring at Vee. She raised her large hand in a small wave.

“Don’t worry, we’re not actually married. Ryder seems to be a danger magnet; too large of a risk to marry.” I gasped and pressed my hand to my chest in a dramatic show of wounded pride.

“Unimportant details. The point is: Scott! How in the world could you eat all those cakes?”

He looked up at me and shrugged sheepishly. I groaned, grabbing one of the floral pillows, unsure if I wanted to suffocate myself or my brother first. I felt Vee’s hand land on my shoulder, claws gripping slightly. I looked back and she had begun shaking with laughter, too large to be contained even in her Amazonian figure. I smiled reluctantly, the air infectious. Fuck, I had it bad for her. I’d marry her if it was the last thing I did.

**Author's Note:**

> My creative writing class said "calling them wives when they're not married doesn't make sense" but to hell with that, let my gay girls be happy.
> 
> Comments & kudos are appreciated!


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